


We Don’t Know Where We’re Going (But We Know Where We Belong)

by yeahyouresocool



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Established Relationship, Fake Baby, Fluff, Gift Fic, Happy Birthday Lance, High School, M/M, it's not even real angst lol, its like the flour sack project but more advanced, lol, parenting for home ec, this is the 21st century yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 02:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahyouresocool/pseuds/yeahyouresocool
Summary: The good thing about taking Home Ec: It’s a really easy class, has minimal work, and is pretty much an easy A.The bad thing about taking Home Ec: The ‘baby simulator’ project.orKeith and Lance get a baby (doll), Keith is stressed about math, Lance is stressed about Keith’s parenting skills, and the baby (doll) cries. A lot.





	We Don’t Know Where We’re Going (But We Know Where We Belong)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LMarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMarie/gifts).



> Like anything I write, this is way longer than I expected it to be. But it's okay.
> 
> This fic is a birthday present to my dear friend, who just happens to share a birthday w/ Lance. Her tumblr is   
> @presidentoflanceclub, and you should definitely go check it out!
> 
> Title comes from the song "Sweet Creature" by Harry Styles.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :D

The good thing about taking Home Ec: It’s a really easy class, has minimal work, and is pretty much an easy A.

The bad thing about taking Home Ec: The “baby simulator” project.

Lance loves kids and he’s good with them, knows how to make them stop crying and how to make them laugh and everything in between. He can patch up scraped knees, change dirty diapers in record time, and convince all eight of his nieces and nephews to get in bed for nap time. He’s had lots of experience with kids; he guesses that’s one perk of being an uncle.

So maybe that’s why he finds that the baby simulator project is a huge waste of time. At least for him.

“So, we are almost finished with the family and childcare portion of the curriculum,” the Home Ec teacher, Mrs. Turner, says, pushing her glasses up onto her pointed nose. She stands at the front of the room, her white hair gathered on the top of her head in a tight knot, looking slightly less miserable than usual.

Lance taps the end of his pencil noisily against his desk, leaning backwards in his chair so far that he looks like he’s going to fall over at any second. He’s an expert at it, though; he’s had twelve years of practice in the field of chair-leaning.

Keith reaches over and rests his own hand over the one that Lance is doing the pencil tapping with. He gives Lance a look that says, “Stop doing that,” and returns to his original position, slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed. Lance gives him a guilty look and stops the tapping, even though they both know that he’ll be at it again in about a minute.

Mrs. Turner is still talking. “The final project for this chapter is the baby simulator project. This will tell me what you’ve learned and will count for forty percent of your final grade this semester.”

Lance hears Keith let out a low whistle. _Forty?_

“Each of you will have a partner for this, so choose wisely. Every day, both parents will be tested on a skill necessary to raising their child. The different skills range from bottle-feeding to diaper changing.”

Lance briefly wonders if the reason the marching band got funding cuts this year is because the school spent a fortune on electronic babies. Because why should kids practice music when you can have a dozen, pooping dolls?

Keith raises his hand then, which is slightly out of character for him. Lance gives him a curious stare as Mrs. Turner gives him a scrutinizing one.

“If you do not want to participate in this project, then you can instead write a five-page essay on the different aspects of childcare that we have gone over this semester.”

Keith’s hand goes down slowly, and he meets Mrs. Turner’s glare with a fiery one of his own.

They really haven’t gotten along too well ever since Keith turned in a recipe for microwavable ramen noodles for his final for the cooking chapter.

He made a twenty-three.

“I’ll start handing out the babies while you choose your partners,” Mrs. Turner says. Keith rolls his eyes, and turns to Lance.

Lance shoots Keith a look, one eyebrow raised. “I’m in pretty high demand, but _I guess_ I’ll be your partner,” he says. “Besides, it’ll help your grade. Mrs. Turner _loves_ me.”

“Shut up,” Keith says simply, smiling, and grabs Lance’s hand. Their fingers intertwine easily. “It’s only ‘cause you’ve been sucking up to her since the beginning of the year.”

“I would _never,”_ Lance smiles back, giving Keith’s hand a squeeze.

It is then that Mrs. Turner walks to their desks, clipboard in hand, along with a doll.

“Keith Kogane and Lance McClain,” she mutters as she writes their names on her clipboard. “Okay, here is your baby.”

She holds out the doll, a small, bald baby in a purple onesie. Lance takes it and cradles it in one arm. It’s denser than he thought it would be, as if it were filled with sand or rocks, and it weighs about the same as a real newborn. Its eyes are closed, and he rocks it a few times, like he’s done so many times with his nieces and nephews.

She pulls two stapled pieces of paper off of her clipboard and hands them to Lance, even though Keith is sitting closest to her. Lance doesn’t miss the glare that Keith shoots her.

“You need to fill out these papers and hand them in by the end of class,” she says. Lance looks away from Keith and down at the first sheet.

_Name, name of parents, eye color…_

“Here are some batteries,” Mrs. Turner says. “The baby will turn on as soon as you put them in.” She then walks away, attending to the next pair of students.

“I still don’t understand why she hates me so much,” Keith comments, sliding the papers over onto his desk. Lance snorts.

“Maybe it’s because you spent thirty minutes arguing with her about how you turned in an ‘original recipe,’ when you _really_ just copied it directly from the back of a ramen noodles package,” Lance points out. He was there. He saw Keith do it.

“But it wasn’t exact,” Keith explains. “I made changes to the recipe that make it a totally different meal!”

“Keith,” Lance says. “Writing ‘add salt’ at the end of the recipe _does not_ make it original.”

“But it tastes _completely different,”_ Keith insists. Lance laughs.

“You’re just lucky that she gave everyone twenty points just for putting our name on it,” Lance says. “Or you wouldn’t have done as well as you did.”

“Hey, I did manage to convince her that I deserved _at least_ three points for originality.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance agrees. He looks down at the doll. “Now, let’s see how this thing works…”

He flips the doll over, searching for the battery compartment.

“I’ve got pen and paper duty,” Keith says, reaching into his bag and pulling out a pen.

“Are ya sure?” Lance asks, slightly preoccupied with undoing the Velcro on the back of the onesie in order to put the batteries in. “I’ve got _way_ better handwriting than you…”

 _Aha._ Lance finds the compartment on the doll’s back, opens it, and pushes the batteries in. Immediately, a loud cry is heard throughout the room. Lance is startled, but doesn’t panic, and quickly closes the compartment. He flips the baby over and starts to rock it.

“Yes, I’m definitely sure,” Keith says, staring a bit wide-eyed at the crying doll. Lance looks up with a smirk.

“Okay, whatever,” he replies, rocking the baby gently. Its cries slow, and soon it’s “sleeping” in Lance’s arms.

“Okay.” Keith is still staring down at the baby like it’s a time bomb. “What should we name it?”

“Hm… What do you think?”

“Um, I don’t care… What about Bob?”

 _“Keith,”_ Lance laughs. “We are _not_ naming our baby _‘Bob.’”_

“Why not?” Keith asks, and Lance shakes his head.

“Do I really have to explain this?” Keith is still giving him a blank stare, so he just sighs. “Okay, okay… What about… Juliet?”

“Okay,” Keith agrees, shrugging. He scribbles the name in his terrible hand writing and moves on to the next question.

They fill out the rest of the first sheet easily, and then Keith flips over to the second sheet that is stapled to the back of it. His eyes scan over it.

“Well, this looks promising,” he remarks, his voice flat.

“What?” Lance leans over to get a closer look.

“It’s a contract that we have to sign saying that we are ‘prepared to take on responsibility’ and ‘can handle any repercussions that might come from the project.’” His fingers create air quotes around each of the phrases, and Lance’s eyebrows furrow.

“Okay… That’s… Weird?” he says. Keith shrugs and signs the page, and soon after, Lance does the same.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause last year, Nyma accidentally ran her doll over,” Lance says, standing up from his chair.

“What?” Keith laughs. He stands up too, and they both start walking toward Mrs. Turner’s desk. “How do you _run it over?”_

“Who knows,” Lance says. “But the school was gonna make her pay for it, and her parents didn’t like that. They went to the school board and everything.”

When they get to Mrs. Turner’s desk, Keith hands her the papers. She looks over it quickly before handing them another sheet of paper, this one printed with a poorly-made Microsoft Excel grid.

“This is a timetable of when each of you will be taking care of your baby,” she drones. “Fill it out over the next week and try to make the time as equal as possible.”

They decide to go every other night, with Lance volunteering for the first night, because Keith still seems nervous. Lance doesn’t tell him that, though.

 _This’ll be easy,_ Lance thinks as he picks up packets of “formula” from Mrs. Turner’s desk and shove them into his backpack. _I was born for this project._

When the bell rings for second period, Lance walks out of the classroom, cradling Juliet, and imagining the “A” that’s going to be stamped on his report card.

-

Lance wakes up for the third time wishing he had just chosen to write the damn essay.

He rolls over and stares Juliet down, who is crying on the pillow next to him.

“Are you running on a timer?” he asks her. She doesn’t answer.

He sighs heavily and picks her up, patting her back gently. Finally, the crying subsides, and he sighs again, this time in relief, as he lays her back down.

 _This is probably why we had to sign a contract,_ Lance thinks as he rolls back over.

 _Keith is_ not _going to be happy about this._

_-_

“Wait… How do I make the formula?”

Lance turns around to look at Keith, who is holding Juliet as if she’s about to explode. “There’s directions on the packets. You basically just mix it with water.”

“Okay… Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Keith, all she does is eat, sleep, and poop,” Lance says. “Just feed her, change her diaper, and rock her when she starts crying. I'm sure that Shiro can help you if anything goes wrong."

Keith shakes his head. "He left for China this morning. I don't even know when he'll be back."

Lance doesn't comment on how cool that is, or how he wishes that one of  _his_ brothers was a pilot. Mostly because Keith looks like he's about to slam his head into a wall.

“Can’t you come over and help me?” Keith asks. Lance sighs and grabs his hand, the one that isn’t holding Juliet.

“I already promised my brother that I’d babysit Tatiana tonight,” he says, referring to his niece.

“You could still come over,” Keith says. “Tatiana loves me.”

“Keith, you have a Trig test on Thursday and a Calc test on Friday that you need to study for,” Lance points out. “The last thing you need is Tati running around and asking you to play with her every ten minutes.”

Keith sighs. “Fine. But I’m calling you if anything goes wrong.”

Lance leans forward and gives Keith a short peck on the lips. “You’ll be _fine._ Now, I have to go pick up Tatiana. Don’t freak out.”

They part ways, and Lance pulls out his phone to turn the ringer on, expecting a call at any second.

-

Surprisingly, the first contact from Keith doesn’t come until that evening, at around six, and it isn’t a call; it’s a Snapchat video. Lance receives the notification as he’s placing Tatiana’s dinner- a leftover cheeseburger and some potato chips- on the kitchen table.

“Tati!” Lance calls. “Food’s done!”

After a second, the five-year-old runs into the kitchen from the living room, where she was watching TV. As she sits down and starts to eat, Lance pulls out a chair, sits down, and plays the video Keith sent him.

It starts with a view of Keith holding Juliet with one hand gripped around her middle. The caption on the Snap reads, “i thought this was interesting.”

After a second, Keith turns Juliet completely over, to where she is upside down. She immediately begins crying. Then, Keith turns her right-side up, and she immediately _stops_ crying.

He does this a few more times, Juliet’s cries suddenly starting and then suddenly stopping, sounding as though it’s breaking up through a loose phone connection.

Lance watches the video a few more times, since Keith sent it on an infinite loop, and feels his disbelief grow stronger each time. He finally exits out of the app completely and rapidly switches to his contacts menu.

“Uncle Lance,” Tatiana says from the table. “What was that?”

Lance looks down at her sullenly. “It’s the sound of Keith being an idiot.”

When he taps on Keith’s name and puts the phone to his ear, it takes only a couple rings for Keith to pick up.

“Hey,” he says. “Did you get my video?”

Lance huffs out a breath. “Yes, Keith, I got your video. What the-“ he stops suddenly, glancing over at Tatiana, who seems to be preoccupied with her potato chips. He lowers his voice. “What the hell are you doing to her?”

“I just thought it was weird how she cries when she’s upside down, but when you put her right-side up, the crying just cuts off,” Keith explains. “A real baby wouldn’t do that.”

Lance closes his eyes. “Keith, stop turning our child upside down for your amusement,” he says, and he can’t believe that he even has to _say_ that.

“Aw, c’mon Lance, she’s just a doll-“

_“Keith.”_

“Okay, okay, fine,” Keith relents. “I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” Lance says. “Now-“

And then he stops, because something has dawned on him and he isn’t sure if he even wants to _know_ the answer to the question he’s about to ask.

“Yes?” Keith says from the other end of the line. Lance sighs.

“How did you even figure out that she-“

“That’s not important,” Keith says, cutting him off. “Let’s just say-“

“Ya know what, I really don’t even want to know.”

Suddenly, there’s crying in the background of the call.

“That’s Juliet,” Keith says. “Gotta go.”

“Okay, bye, love you,” Lance says.

“Love you too,” Keith answers, and then the call ends.

Lance puts his head down on the table and prays for Juliet’s wellbeing.

-

The next morning, Keith walks into first period right before the tardy bell rings. He’s holding Juliet with his left arm, a few math textbooks in the other, and has a cup of coffee gripped tightly in his left hand.

When he sits down, he lets the textbooks in his arms tumble onto his desk, not caring when one of them slides off and falls to the ground. He just sighs and lays Juliet down, taking a large swig of coffee as though it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“Keith…” Lance says. “Are you… alright?”

Keith puts his cup of coffee down. “Well, considering the fact that I missed my alarm, didn’t wake up until ten minutes ago, _and_ left my Trig notes at home…” he closes his eyes and sighs. “No, not really.”

Lance reaches out and starts to pat down Keith’s hair, which is suffering from a mild case of bedhead. “Well, that explains why you didn’t open my ‘good morning streak.’”

“I was a little preoccupied with trying to get to school on time,” Keith answers, taking another swig of coffee.

“If I were you, I would have just stayed home.” It’s true; Lance’s morning routine is too long and too important to skip, even if he wakes up late.

“Yeah, well, I thought about it…” Keith answers. “But… I have Juliet.”

Lance nods, and picks her up from the desk. “Yeah, I think we are getting tested on bottle-feeding today…” Juliet’s eyes stay closed as Lance holds her. “How’d she sleep?”

“Fine,” Keith answers, not looking up from the Calculus book on his desk. Lance hadn’t even noticed that he’d opened it.

“Did she wake up any?” Lance asks, feeling his disbelief grow. “Like, crying? In the middle of the night?”

 “Nope,” Keith answers, still staring down at his book. Lance’s eyes go wide.

“What? How? She woke me up crying at least three times when I had her!”

Keith shrugs. “Maybe she just likes me more.”

Lance’s eyes narrow. “Okay, that is so _not_ true.”

He looks down at Juliet, who still hasn’t opened her eyes since Lance picked her up. Or moved. Or even made a noise. He holds her upright, waiting for a reaction, but it doesn’t come.

“Um…” Lance begins. “I think there’s something wrong with Juliet.”

Keith looks up then, eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

“She’s not moving or reacting to me holding her,” Lance says.

“She’s probably just sleeping,” Keith responds, turning back to his book.

Lance’s eyes narrow, and he then lays Juliet stomach-down on his desk. “Maybe her batteries are dead? But, I mean, we just put new ones in on Monday…”

Suddenly, Keith looks up. He closes his book with a loud _thud._ “Oh, yeah, that’s probably it. Here, why don’t you go get the new batteries from Mrs. Turner, and I’ll take the old ones out.”

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ve almost got it,” Lance says, already having undone the Velcro on the back of her onesie.

“I can take over,” Keith offers, and Lance’s eyes narrow. He looks up at Keith.

“It’s okay…” he answers slowly, feeling a wave of suspicion wash over him. He scrutinizes Keith for a few seconds, taking in his furrowed eyebrows and lips that are pressed into a tight line.

 _What’s wrong with him?_ He wonders, holding onto the thought as he refocuses on Juliet. His index finger presses down on a button, and the small plate on her back that protects the battery compartment pops off.

He scans the compartment, looking for anything screwy.

And then he sees it.

He looks up at Keith, eyes narrowed. “Keith, why is one of the batteries flipped the wrong way?”

“What do you mean?” Keith asks, and Lance’s eyes narrow even more, so much so that Keith probably can’t even see his eyes anymore.

“One of the batteries,” Lance says, slowly. He holds up Juliet, pushing her battery compartment into Keith’s face. “Is flipped upside down. _That’s_ why she isn’t working.”

“Oh,” Keith says. “I… Wonder how that happened.”

“Well, she was working just fine yesterday, which means her batteries were flipped the _right_ way,” Lance explains, as if he even _has_ to. “So, why did you have to take her batteries out, _Keith?”_

“Well,” Keith begins, but Lance doesn’t even let him finish.

“Ya know what _I_ think?” he says. “I think that you took her batteries out when you went to sleep so that she wouldn’t wake you up, and when you were running late this morning, you accidentally put one of the batteries in wrong because you were in such a hurry.”

Keith looks up at the ceiling. “Okay, maybe there is _some_ truth to that-“

“I knew it,” Lance says, and he pries the upside-down battery out of Juliet’s back. He flips it around and shoves it back in the correct way. She immediately lets out a wail, and Lance snaps her battery compartment closed.

“Okay,” Keith says. “Yeah, I took her batteries out. But I didn’t do it _before_ I went to sleep… I did it after the first time she woke me up…”

Lance finishes doing up the Velcro on her shirt and begins to rock her. “Wow, Keith. That makes things _so much better._ Dad. Of. The. Fucking. Year.”

Keith looks down from the ceiling, and instead focuses on the floor. “Hey… Don’t cuss in front of the baby…”

Lance stops rocking Juliet, takes a deep breath, and fights the overwhelming urge to slam his head against his desk. He closes his eyes.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear you just say that.”

“That’s... Probably for the best.”

And then Juliet starts crying again, and he sighs as he reaches down into his bag for a formula packet.

-

Lance’s day with Juliet goes pretty well, if he’s being honest.

She’s not a real baby by any means. She doesn’t smile or laugh at games of peek-a-boo. She does all the “hard” or “unlikeable” things, like crying, spitting up, and pooping. Lance is okay with it, though; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

Keith, on the other hand, has never had to deal with a baby in his _life._

And, well, it shows.

But Lance is all about second chances. Keith probably just needs to get used to all this, needs to settle into the fact that they are taking care of what might as well be a baby.

That’s probably why the battery incident happened. Keith just wasn’t prepared, right? But now he is.

He decides to give Keith a second chance, one to get used to this whole “childcare” thing.

-

Keith walks into Home Ec the next day looking slightly miserable.

“Babe,” Lance says. “What’s wrong?”

Keith shrugs and lets his backpack fall to the floor. “Just stressed. Tired.”

Lance feels a wave of sympathy well up in his stomach. “Is it about your tests?”

Keith lays his head down on the table. “Why did I decide to take _two_ math classes this year?”

Lance reaches out and takes Keith’s hand. “Hey, you’re gonna do _fine_. You did this last year, too, and you still got an A in both of them.”

Yeah, Lance is dating a freaking _genius._ He rubs his thumb across Keith’s hand as the tardy bell rings. Mrs. Turner goes to the front of the room.

“Today, I’m going to test each parent on diaper changing,” she says. “Be ready; I’ll start at the front of the room and go back.”

Keith and Lance sit in about the middle, so there’s a bit of time before Mrs. Turner gets to them. Lance lets go of Keith’s hand and picks Juliet up.

“I’ll take her today,” Lance says. “You’ve got that Trig test…”

Keith picks his head up from the desk. “No, it’s okay… I owe you one, for the battery thing.”

“Are ya sure?” Lance asks, because as right as that statement is, Keith’s test is pretty important.

“Yeah. Trig is the easy one, I’ll make it. You definitely need to keep her tomorrow, though.” Keith lays his head on the desk again. “Calc is eating my ass.”

Lance blinks a few times. “It’s… It’s _what?”_

And he starts laughing, his face scrunching up as Keith picks his head up and tries to remember what he just said.

“Keith, what the _hell_ ,” Lance says between laughs. He opens his eyes to see Keith staring at him, dumbfounded.

“What?” Keith asks, so innocently that it almost makes Lance crack up again.

“You said that Calculus is _eating your ass,”_ Lance says, and it’s enough to send him into a fit of giggles.

“Wait- No- That is _not_ what I meant to say,” Keith insists, his mouth tripping over the words. “I meant it’s kicking my-“

He stops suddenly, and Lance looks up to see Mrs. Turner standing at their desks, ready to quiz them on the art of diaper-changing. She shoots Keith a glare as Lance wipes a tear from the side of his eye.

“This is going to be a _long_ day,” Keith says, and lays his head down on the desk in front of him.

-

It’s five minutes until the end of second period when Lance sends Keith a long, heart-felt message about how Keith is going to do great on his Trig test, how he’s gonna blow everyone away, and how he’s one of the smartest guys he knows.

Keith is great at math, honestly. He just doesn’t realize it. Even when he has one of the highest grades in his class. Even when he does great on every test.

He’s kind of a perfectionist, Lance guesses. One time, he forgot to carry a one on his Algebra test, and he made a 99 instead of 100. He still gets mad at himself about it if it ever comes up.

The bell rings, and when Lance gets to his third period Journalism class, Keith still hasn’t responded to the long, heart-felt message. But Lance knows that he saw it and that he appreciates it.

He decides to text Hunk, too, who is in the same class.

Lance (9:40 AM): _Hey, good luck on your test!_

Hunk (9:41 AM): _Hey, thanks! But you should really be worrying about Keith, he looks like he’s about to puke._

Hunk, as nervous as he can be about other things, never seems to even _sweat_ at the thought of a test.

It’s cause, like Keith, he’s a freaking genius. But, _un_ like Keith, he knows it.

Lance (9:42 AM): _He’s gonna do great. We all know it._

Hunk (9:42 AM): _Yeah, you’re right. Gtg. Bout to start._

Lance puts his phone away, and looks up to see Allura walk into the room.

“Lance!” she says, and rushes over to him.

“Allura!” he answers. She lays her bag down on a desk and flips her hair behind her shoulders.

“I have to go down to the science wing to interview Mrs. Rogers on the chemistry project that her students are working on,” she says. “Do you want to come with me?”

Lance thinks for a second. “Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

As co-Editors-In-Chief of the school newspaper, they pretty much are allowed to go anywhere they want to in the building. They pick up hall passes on their way out the door, and soon are headed to the science wing.

“So, I was talking to Shay,” Allura says as they walk down the hall. “And she said-“

_Wait…_

He stops, and Allura takes a few more steps before stopping with him.

“What?” she asks. He narrows his eyes.

“Do you hear that?” He looks around.

“Hear what…?”

They both stand still for a second, listening.

Then Lance hears it again.

“That!” he says, and turns around. “It sounds like one of the dolls for Home Ec…”

“One of them probably just went off in class,” Allura reasons. She starts to walk again.

“Wait, Allura!” Lance says. “It sounds like it’s coming from a locker…”

He starts walking in the opposite direction, and he can hear Allura catching up to him by the sound of her boots clicking against the floor.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “Why would somebody leave their doll in their locker?”

“I don’t know,” Lance answers. “Probably got tired of taking care of it. That’s pretty fucked up, don’t ya think?”

“Um, yes,” she agrees.

_C’mon, it’s around here somewhere…_

Lance suddenly stops, freezes for a second, and then turns sharply to the right.

Locker 301.

 “No.” He shuts his eyes tightly. “Oh no, you have _got_ to be _kidding me.”_

 “What?” Allura asks. “Whose is it?”

“It’s _Keith’s,”_ he answers, and she takes in a small gasp.

He reaches for the locker, opening it with such force that the door slams against the other lockers with a loud _crash._ Keith doesn’t have a lock on his locker, because, according to him, he “never keeps anything important in there.”

_Except for our damn child._

Just like Lance expected, Juliet is there, laying on the top shelf, crying her little, plastic eyes out.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna kill him,” Lance groans. He reaches up and grabs Juliet, taking her into his arms and rocking her. The crying continues.

“I’m… not even sure what to say to this,” Allura comments, her eyes wide and blinking. “Why would he…”

“Oh, he is _so_ dead. First the batteries, now _this-“_

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he _did_ seem pretty sorry about the whole battery fiasco,” Allura points out. Lance’s eyes narrow.

“Yeah, and he made up for it with _child abandonment!”_

Allura presses her lips into a tight line, letting Lance be upset.

“C’mon, I think she’s hungry,” Lance says, and stalks off down the hall. Luckily, the Home Ec room is on the way to the Chemistry labs, so he can pick up some extra formula packets there.

_Keith better have a damn good explanation for this._

-

Fourth period is English, the only class that Lance shares with Pidge, Hunk _and_ Keith. He gets there before anybody else, with Juliet, of course, and waits.

He hopes that Keith is at his locker right now, panicking because Juliet isn’t there. He imagines the look on Keith’s face when he opens his locker and realizes that Juliet is missing.

This should teach him a lesson. _Don’t leave your child in your locker._

Lance is holding Juliet angrily when Hunk and Pidge walk in. He snaps from his thoughts and immediately ambushes them.

“I need you both to explain to me why I found Juliet crying in Keith’s locker,” he says all in one breath, holding a bottle to Juliet’s mouth.

“What?” Hunk asks, caught off guard.

“Last period, I was walking down the hall, and I heard crying,” Lance explains. “It was coming from Juliet, who I found _in Keith’s locker.”_

“Really?” Hunk asks. “I thought Keith brought her to you?”

“Yeah,” Pidge agrees. “She started crying during the test, and Keith couldn’t get her to stop, so Mrs. Barger told him to get her out of the room,” Pidge explains. “We thought he went to you.”

“Well, that is _not_ what happened,” Lance says. “She was _in his locker.”_

Hunk looks at Pidge then, something lighting up in his brain. “Ohhhhh, so that’s why he rushed out of class as soon as the bell rang. He was probably hurrying to get Juliet.”

“Well, he’s not gonna find her there,” Lance remarks. They take their seats, and right as the tardy bell rings, Keith runs in.

Their English teacher looks up at him, displeased but unable to give him a tardy slip, as he was technically right on time.

When he looks over at Lance and sees him holding Juliet, a sigh of relief escapes his lips. He walks toward them and takes a seat.

“Oh, thank God, I thought I lost her,” he huffs out. He must have run up the stairs to get to class on time.

“You shouldn’t have been without her, anyways,” Lance bites, unimpressed. Keith sighs.

“I know, I’m really sorry, it’s just that she started crying and I didn’t know what to do, and then Mrs. Barger was getting really mad and-“

“Why didn’t you text me?” Lance asks. “I would have come and gotten her.”

“Mrs. Barger took up our phones for the test,” Keith explains. From beside him, Lance can see Hunk nodding, agreeing with the statement.

Lance feels a seed of sympathy plant itself in his chest. He suddenly feels bad for even being upset about it. He sighs. “It’s just- You left her in _your locker-“_

Keith nods. “I know, I know. I just panicked,” he says. “I won’t do it again. Promise.”

Lance shakes his head and turns to the front of the room before they both get in trouble for talking.

-

Lance (7:32 AM): _Oh my gosh, Keith, I just remembered that I have a dentist appointment today. Can you take care of Juliet?_

Keith (7:34 AM): _uh, yeah. but i have my calc test today…_

Lance (7:35 AM): _Shit. Maybe Hunk can take her? Or Pidge?_

Lance (7:35 AM): _Wait, nvm, they’re in that class_

Keith (7:40 AM): _i’ll try to find allura_

Lance (7:42 AM): _Okay, awesome. Sorry babe, I completely forgot about it!_

Keith (7:50 AM): _it’s okay_

-

Lance’s teeth-cleaning goes smoothly. No cavities, no bleeding gums, just a clean, white smile and a bag of dental goodies.

He even takes a Moana sticker, because, well, he can.

As he walks out of the dentist’s office, he pulls his phone out to check the time. 11:32. Keith is taking his Calculus test now.

Earlier, Lance sent Keith another long, sappy message about how great he was going to do on the test, followed by about a million heart emojis and three kissy-faces. Usually, Lance expects no response. He knows that Keith reads them and takes them to heart. But this time, after Lance sent the message, he got a response ten minutes later, in true Keith fashion.

Keith (10:54 AM): _thank you. love you._

It made Lance’s stomach do a flip.

He decides to go out and buy Keith some lunch.

By the time Lance gets back to school with a Sonic bag and two large drinks, it’s a few minutes before lunch starts. He checks in at the main office, and as he’s making his way to the cafeteria, the lunch bell rings.

He walks toward his group’s usual table and finds that Allura is already there, eating whatever fancy lunch she packed herself that morning.

“Hi Lance,” she says as he pulls out a chair and sits down. She’s eating a fruit salad, and spears a slice of watermelon on the end of her fork. “How was the dentist?”

“It was good. An excuse to get Sonic.” He holds up the bag, and her nose wrinkles.

“Yum,” she says sarcastically. Lance rolls his eyes playfully. They’ve been giving each other crap about their food choices ever since she went vegetarian last year.

Just then, Hunk and Pidge make their way toward the table, holding trays of what looked to be bean burritos.

“No fair,” Hunk says, glaring at the food that Lance was pulling out of the Sonic bag. “Look at what we’re stuck with.”

Lance looks down in disgust at the crusty, steaming burrito on Hunk’s tray. Next to it is a slop of refried beans that Lance knows, from experience, have the consistency of glue. And don’t even get him _started_ on the _rice._

“That looks disgusting,” he says. “Have you seen Keith?”

Speak of the Devil.

Right as he says it, Keith walks to the table. His backpack falls off his shoulder and hits the floor.

“Hey, babe!” Lance says, holding out the Sonic bag, which still held Keith’s food. “I got you lunch. Jalapeno poppers and-“

_Wait._

Keith takes the bag. “Thanks… I didn’t expect you to be back for lunch.”

He puts on a smile, but it immediately fades as Lance narrows his eyes.

“Keith, where is Juliet?”

Keith pulls out his chair and sits, avoiding Lance’s gaze. “I thought we agreed on Bob.”

“Keith. Don’t avoid the question.”

Keith still won’t meet his gaze. “I’m not…”

Something isn’t right here, something _really isn’t right-_

Keith reaches down suddenly, pulling his backpack up from the floor, and begins to unzip it. “Okay, I _promise_ it was just this one time, I was going to take her out _right aft_ -“

_“Keith, what did you do with her-“_

Lance’s words are cut off as Keith reaches into his bag, grabs something, and pulls Juliet out by one tiny, plastic foot.

 _“Keith!”_ Lance exclaims, his eyes going wide. “What the _actual_ fuck?”

Lance hears Pidge let out a small snort from beside him. He shoots her a glare.

Keith still won’t meet his gaze, and is instead electing to point his sheepish expression at the floor.

Something else catches Lance’s attention. “Wait, how is she not crying? You put her upside-“ He stops, suddenly, and his eyes go wide. “ _Keith.”_

Lance lunges forward then, grabbing Keith’s backpack with both hands. He’s met with resistance as Keith pulls the bag back.

“Keith, let me have it!” Lance yells, and he can feel other eyes in the cafeteria pointing toward them, but he doesn’t care, this is his _daughter_ that they’re talking about.

“Lance, c’mon,” Keith says, and looks around. He probably hates the scene that they’re causing.

“Keith, did you take her _batteries_ out again?”

“Lance-“

And with one final tug, the bag is ripped from Keith’s grip. Lance reaches into the very bottom of the bag, searching, and Keith sits back, defeated.

_Nope, that’s a pencil… An eraser… Another pencil…_

“Aha!” Lance exclaims, and pulls his arm out of the bag. His fist is clenched, and when he opens it to show the rest of the group, he hears two gasps, a snort, and one defeated sigh.

In his palm lie three, lonely batteries.

“That’s so messed up,” Hunk says.

“Keith, how could you do this to our _daughter?”_ Lance accuses, and suddenly his anger and irritation is turning into something more. His eyebrows furrow as he flips Juliet over and proceeds to open her battery compartment.

“Lance, c’mon, she’s just a doll. Mrs. Turner’s never gonna know if her batteries were out for a little bit-“

“It’s not about that, _Keith,”_ Lance says, pushing Juliet’s batteries back into place.

“Then what-“

And then there’s a pause, and Lance doesn’t look up to meet Keith’s eye.

“Wait…” Keith begins again. “Lance, are you… Are you really upset about this?”

“No, Keith. I’m super happy that you decided to take the _easy_ way out on this one,” Lance bites back, and snaps Juliet’s battery compartment closed. He adjusts her dress, does up the Velcro in the back, and stands up, backpack and Juliet in tow.

Keith’s eyebrows furrow, his eyes gleaming with guilt. “Wait, Lance-“

“I’ve got some homework to do,” Lance states coolly, and shoots Keith a glare. “Don’t worry, _I’ll_ take care of her.”

He turns around and walks away, ignoring the few times that Keith shouts his name.

And maybe he _is_ overreacting, but when he pictures a real baby in place of Juliet, he cringes at the idea of letting Keith even touch it.

-

He doesn’t want to talk to Keith, and, luckily, he doesn’t have to. They don’t have any classes together during the second half of the day, so he goes home feeling a _little_ bit better about the whole thing.

But just a little.

 _I bought him_ food.

Yeah, Juliet’s a doll. He _knows_ that. But they’re supposed to be treating her like a real baby. _A real baby._

Lance sighs and flops down onto his bed. Maybe he’s reading too much into this. But what if it _were_ a real baby? What would Keith do then? Would he get tired of it? Give up? Does he even w _ant_ kids?

Yeah, they’re only in high school, but Lance doesn’t date _just_ to date. He’s picky, he has _standards._

And those standards include someone who wants a huge, happy family, just like him.

He hears a loud vibration, and rolls over to see that he has a text.

_Keith._

He sighs and checks the time, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes that he’s been brooding for almost thirty minutes.

_Gosh, I’m turning into Keith._

The thought almost makes him smile. He decides to check his texts.

Keith (4:40 PM): _can I come over?_

Lance sighs.

Lance (4:41 PM): _No, I’m mad at you._

He then waits for a response, staring at his phone screen. In a couple of seconds, his phone vibrates again.

Keith (4:41 PM): _okay, i’m sorry._

He sighs again, and types out a quick message.

Lance (4:42 PM): _Come over, please._

It takes no time for him to get a response.

Keith (4:42 PM): _on my way._

-

Keith’s horrible, rusty, maroon pick-up truck pulls in to Lance’s drive way in about ten minutes. Lance watches from his bedroom window as Keith walks up to the front door, knocks, and waits for Lance’s mom to let him in.

Juliet hasn’t made a sound since he got home, which is kind of odd. She’s currently lying on Lance’s bed, fast asleep, and, well, Lance can’t complain about some peace and quiet.

After a few seconds, the silence is broken by Keith pushing his door open. He walks in, not shutting it behind him, because Lance’s parents don’t let them shut the door when they’re alone in his room.

Lance was kind of surprised by that rule when it was first instated because, as the youngest of five, Lance is usually able to do whatever he wants. But it doesn’t bother him that much.

Keith’s first reaction is to sit on the edge of Lance’s full-sized bed, across from Lance. It’s awkwardly silent for a while as Keith looks at Lance, and as Lance looks anywhere but at Keith.

Lance hates awkward silences, though. Especially when it’s between him and Keith. Things were awkward enough at the beginning of their relationship; they’ve gotten through that stage, and Lance does _not_ want to revisit it. He decides that if Keith isn’t going to say anything, then he is.

“So… do you want to explain to me why you stuffed Juliet into your backpack, batteries gone, when you thought I wasn’t going to be a school?” he asks, crossing his arms. Keith sighs.

“I had that Calc test today… And I really didn’t want her to start crying in the middle of it…”

He stops, taking in Lance’s unimpressed look.

“Okay,” Lance begins. “But what if she were a _real_ baby? You can’t just force a real baby into your backpack, Keith. Or turn them off when they start crying. Or shove them in a locker until class is over…”

He knows that he’s probably being a little overdramatic. But it’s a little worrying the way that Keith’s “parenting” skills are being displayed.

Keith blinks a few times. “Lance… Is that what this is all about?”

Lance narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Lance…” he begins. “You don’t think… Lance, she’s a _doll…”_

“Okay, so what?” Lance accuses. “We are supposed to be treating her like a real baby. And the way you’ve _been_ treating her… Well, it’s kind of a red flag for me.”

“A red flag?” Keith scoffs. “It’s not like I would shove a real, live baby into my backpack just because I have a test-“

“No, I don’t mean that,” Lance stops him, shaking his head. “It’s just-“

“What?” Keith asks, and it’s kind of demanding, harsh. Lance takes a deep breath before beginning again.

“What I mean is,” he begins, “that taking care of her… seems like a chore for you. Like you don’t have time for it. And for some people, yeah, that’s fine. Some people just aren’t meant to have kids, ya know? And that’s okay…”

He stops for a second, gathering his thoughts. Keith is looking at him, brows furrowed. Lance continues.

“But, like, for me to be dating you… That’s kind of alarming to me, ya know? And I know that we are just in high school, but honestly, we’re gonna be graduating soon, and I have to start thinking about what I want in life… And someday, that’s going to include a family.”

He lets out the rest of his breath, not even sure if all that rambling he just did even made any _sense._ He looks up at Keith, and their eyes meet. He feels something overwhelming, like a tug, a longing, and it’s sad.

It’s quiet for a moment as Keith thinks. That’s how Keith is; always quiet, because he’s always trying to figure something out, trying to figure _someone_ out. His reactions might be quick and rash, but when it comes to understanding others, Keith has to take his time.

It’s something that Lance has learned to wait on, to be patient about. So, he waits, looking down at his lap, while Keith thinks.

Finally, Lance feels a hand on his own, grabbing and holding. He looks up, and feels a surge of warmth as Keith smiles.

“Lance,” he says. “I’m taking _two_ advanced math courses. _Two._ Along with science, and English, and history… Yeah, taking care of an electric doll that acts _nothing_ like a real baby _is_ a chore. I’m _seventeen years old.”_

He stops for a second, just looking at Lance. His bangs are falling into his face, and Lance reaches out and pushes them back, because he knows that Keith won’t. Keith smiles and continues.

“Someday, I will want a family of my own. But these things, at our age…” He looks at Juliet. “They suck. A lot.”

Lance smiles at that.

“So, I promise you that one day, when I’m ready, and not seventeen, I’m probably going to want to have kids. And they won’t have batteries, or the most annoying, electronic crying sounds on the _planet,_ or poop grey sludge- _”_

Lance laughs. “I don’t think you can count on that one.”

“You know what I mean,” Keith says. “The formula is disgusting.”

Lance smiles. “Okay, yeah.”

It’s quiet for a second, and Lance is surprised that Keith is the one to break the silence.

“So…” Keith says. “Are we good?”

Lance lets out a breath. “Yeah.”

Keith lets out a relieved sigh, and then leans in, closer and closer. Lance moves nearer to meet him in the middle.

The kiss is warm and nice and everything that a “make-up” kiss is supposed to be.

Lance puts his hands in Keith’s hair, and Keith has his own on Lance’s waist, and really, Lance loves this…

And then a loud, electronic wail pierces the atmosphere.

Keith pulls away and groans. “Still think I’m crazy for taking her batteries out?”

Lance rolls his eyes, a small smile on his face, and turns around to pick Juliet up off of his bed. “I don’t know, Keith. You’ve done it so many times that you could probably do it one-handed with your eyes closed.”

“It’s only been three times!”

Lance raises his eyebrows. “Oh, three? Tell me more about this third time that I was unaware of.”

“I’m gonna go fill her bottle up,” Keith says, picking up the bottle from Lance’s bedside table and hurrying out of the room.

“That’s what I thought,” Lance mutters, smugly.

And Juliet continues to cry.

-

On Monday, Lance and Keith learn that inside Juliet resides a monitoring device that synchronizes with Mrs. Turner’s computer. This device tracks not only how many times she was fed, but also how many times she was turned off, how many times she cried for more than five minutes without receiving care, and how many times she was shaken or turned upside down.

All of this information was sent from Juliet to Mrs. Turner’s computer every morning that they went to class.

They make a 70 on the project.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Again, a happy, happy birthday to you, Marie!
> 
> Catch me on tumblr: yeahyouresocool.tumblr.com


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